As I’ve previously mentioned, I’m a wee bit obsessive. Sadly, I’m also indecisive and suffer from ADD. I think it’s all related really. Let me offer an example…
Every room in our home is currently painted in builder’s white, despite my desire to paint. Probably, if you know me, you already know why we haven’t painted. But for those of you less familiar with how appropriate that “quirky” part of my “quirkyblogger” domain name is, I’ll explain the thought process. What color do I pick? I don’t know. What matches our furniture? Pretty much anything since that’s neutral, too. Why can’t I pick stuff that reflects my style? Wait. What is my style? Crap. Do I even have a style? I don’t think I have a style besides “mommy grunge.” Do I really want our home to say “mommy grunge”? Can I even find things that fit that style? And what color is “mommy grunge” exactly? Well, regular grunge is kind of gray and dirty, right? So maybe I should just let the kids scuff up the walls. Then I don’t have to pick a freaking paint color at all. Yeah, I’m going with that.
And thus, the walls remain unpainted. This approach is fine when it comes to minor decisions like whether or not to paint, whether or not to dye my hair, etc, but when it comes to “big” decisions, it isn’t so fine. Not even close. Lots of times, it turns out okay because Bill is there to help me make the decision. D and Missy have talked me down from my paralyzed-by-obsessively-analyzing-the-situation ledge on more occasions than I care to recall.
But sometimes, there are decisions that I have to make alone. One of those decisions has been how to handle my morbid obesity. My friends and family love me enough to support me in whatever decision I make, but they also love me enough to realize that I have to decide this on my own. Just me and my trusty “Pro | Con” pad. And some Tums. And some coffee. That’s it. And let me tell you, people, I made a decision that surprised even me.
I decided that I’m going to stop obsessing about it. I’m going to stop making gagging noises when I see myself in photos. I’m going to stop avoiding having my picture taken because I don’t want to see the photos. I’m going to stop sticking my tongue out at myself in the mirror. I’m going to stop the negative self-talk when I go to buy clothes. I’m going to stop putting every food I eat into SparkPeople’s food tracker and then moping because I ate more than 1200 calories in a day. I’m just going to…stop. All of it.
Does this mean I’m going to go hogwild? (Ha again.) No. It means that for the first time in a long time, I’m going to stop kicking my own ass all the time. I’m going to treat me the way I would treat a friend. I’m going to love me even on my bad days. I’m going to love me even when I screw up. I’m going to love me despite my hair’s failure to be full and luxurious. I’m going to love me even when I have a big honking zit on the tip of my nose. I’m going to love me even when the scale reads much, much higher than I want it to. However, I’m also going to stop feeding myself utter garbage. I’m going to stop sitting like a lump on my couch. I’m going to get up and shake my bigass to some hot tracks without caring who can see. I’m going to sing along whenever I want, no matter who’s around. I’m going to let me actually be me for a change.
Now. How many of you are doing the same for you?
Tags: diet · fashion · health · weight lossComments
